Seven days of SoKeefe
by Cressida123
Summary: Seven days of fluff and angst for my fellow Foster-Keefe shippers! Rated T- just to be safe. Pinch of Diana in last chapters. Don't ship; don't read.
1. The Proposal

** All rights go to Shannon. **

Why hello everyone! Cressida123 is back with a new story!

Everyone who reads my stuff: And where have YOU BEEN FOR THE PAST MONTH!

Ha ha...ha...*shields myself from upcoming bullets* OKAY OKAY! I'm sorry. Geez. But don't worry you'll be seeing me a LOT more this week! Because it' Seven days of SoKeefe! Yay! *throws confetti* Seven day of pure fluff and angst for Foster-Keefe shippers to gobble up. Here's the chapters I have planned- if you haven't read it on the wiki:

Monday: The Proposal

Tuesday: A Trickster and her Mysterious Mr.F(genderbend SoKeefe)

Wednesday: SoKeefe vs. the Fart Princess

Thursday: Of Leather and Glasses(human au)

Friday: Rabbit? (a surprise and my b-day!)

Saturday: Request from you guys! (I shall choose the one I like the most by Friday.)

Sunday: All I want for Christmas(yes I know it's not Christmas, but I've been meaning to post this for a while. Dedicated to the wonderful BuddingWriter101. Thanks for being my friend and dealing with my horrible grammar.

Okay,this chapter right here is trash. I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes or general horribleness you see*shrugs*. I tried.

* * *

Keefe traced the wide girth, about 3 inches in length, of the golden band with his pointer finger, then began to circle that of the ice blue diamond at the rings top- only the best for HER. His light, his Moonlark, his…

"Whatcha doing papa?" A familiar pubescent voice suddenly asked, and Keefe turned to find a pair of warm brown, gold-flecked irises- eyes that he, along with his older sister, shared with his mother- of Keefe's son, Fitz. He still wasn't too fond of the name- surely Keefe Jr. would have been better? - but Sophie had been insistent on naming him after her past love before she married her prankster friend- a tribute of sorts.

To Keefe though, it was simply a reminder of how he almost lost everything to Wonderboy, who already had the world in the palm of his hands and didn't even know it. While Keefe just kept spiraling down the abyss.

Before he could answer however, a voice, this time distinctly female with a carefree attitude laced in every word, said, "Hey, come on Fitz. Isn't obvious? Dad's really gonna ring it today with mom. I can just hear the bells tolling. He and mom are gonna bond in holy momtromony soon."

Fitz's screech of protests at his sisters puns was drowned in the sea of Keefe's worried thoughts, as he turned to face his daughter, Amy- named after Sophie's human sister.

Long, gold-spun hair falling down her back in soothing sea waves; her eyes comparable to melted chocolate, she was Sophie's kid in every sense of appearance- but Keefe's child at heart, from the lazy smirk that always seemed to frequent her sun-kissed features, to the tousled locks parted in a row at the top of her head. Even the hoodie she draped over her foxfire uniform so that it hid most of her pleated skirt, just seemed scream Keefe Foster(and he would forever be grateful for the name change). He couldn't count the amount of times he was brought into the Forklenators office because of that ice blue, black striped clothing because it violated the dress code, but Amy had refused to part with it.

"Hey, can you kids be quiet! I'm trying to keep it secret."

Amy's condescending smile, for once in as long as Keefe could remember, faltered at the edges as her honeydew eyes widened in surprise. He had always found it somewhat peculiar himself how her expression never seemed to change from that of that grin that was too wide, and displayed too much teeth. She really was his kid.

"WAIT! Seriously?! I was just joking when I was saying you were gonna propose to her before!' she shouted, before that smirk of theirs seemed to creep back onto her features and she started belting the wedding song.

"Dadada dadada!"

Fitz, meanwhile, simply tilted his head in confusion. His overgrown mop of dark blonde hair seemed to trickle down his face, covering most of his mother's orbs, like a river as he did.

"What does proposing mean?" Keefe's male offspring asked childishly.

"It means he's gonna get l!" Keefe swiftly silenced Amy before she could continue that vulgar sentence. He'd rather Fitz didn't learn about "playing" anytime soon- thank you very much.

The older blonde then bent down to his sons level, ice blue meeting twinkling brown.

"Well, it means that I'm asking your mommy if she wants to be with the Keefster forever," his father told his three year old - a soft smile playing at full lips. "She can't get rid of me anymore if she accepts this ring." He held up the wedding gift so the small child's questioning eyes could survey the tiny object.

This only seemed to make Fitz more confused however; his dark brown eyebrows creased down the middle.

"But why would you wanna do that?" he questioned with another held tilt. "I thought we were all gonna be together forever, right? Or is papa and mommy…." tears began to spring up in the young elves eyes until, almost immediately, waterfalls were falling down his cheeks. "NO! I don't want mommy and papa to break up! Don't give her the ring!"

Fitz had always been an emotional child, quick bawl and whine- no doubt most empath's would be overloaded by the onslaught of emotions that so often bombarded the older elf like a tidal wave…. if he hadn't been used to it, of course.

"Come on Wonderboy 2.0, don't cry. Mommy and I aren't breaking up," Keefe consoled, addressing the young elf with the nickname he'd given him so long ago, back when he was born. He waited until Fitz's cry's had subsided to whimpers before continuing. "You good?- Fitz nodded- Good. Mommy and I aren't going anywhere okay? We'll be staying by you and your sisters side for as long as you need. But… do you remember those bad people mommy told you about in your bed time stories….?" the boy's father asked, though he already knew the answer.

As expected, Fitz's blond tresses bobbed as he nodded once more.

"Well, those people prevented us from ever having a wedding- and those are often a couples favorite thing, surprisingly more so than taking a romantic fly on Glitterbutt. I don't want your mommy missing out on that- she only deserves the best- so, today, I'm going to propose to her in way completely deserving of her. Okay."

"Okay," Fitz replied, his lips spreading into a bright, toothy smile, and the sheen of his brown eyes sparkling- not from unshed tears, but from the happiness of the situation.

He has Sophie's smile, Keefe thought absentmindedly. Then, his lips twisted upwards even wider until the corners were nearly touching his ears. It'd be hard not to fall in love with a smile like that.

"But, papa, I have a question?" Fitz inquired, and Keefe blinked. "If you and mommy had such a hard time dealing with those bad guys, then why did the storks bring you sissy and I?"

That was sword that shattered the peace; a pregnant silence settled between them like a rock as Amy's laughter rang out into quiet corridors of Havenfield.

* * *

Sophie's POV

"So… you passed with flying colors, and all your mentors had good things to say about you, well, except for Lady Galvin. Something about a buzzer and another burnt cape. Care to explain?" Sophie Foster asked her eldest child Amy, as they made there through the seemingly endless halls of Foxfire during the celebration after midterms.

Students milled around the passageways, chatting with friends and popping bubbles filled with prattle boxes, throwing open their lockers- the metal hinges screeching- and finding their thinking caps practically overflowing with gifts.

For a second, the moonlark thought she might have seen her daughters facading smirk flicker into something real before it returned so as to not give the young blonde away.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she answered- it was hard to read someone whose expression never changed.

"Oh don't lie to me!" Sophie's normally stunning face hardened to steel in the face misbehaving. "I know you strapped an electric buzzer to your hand and electrocuted…"

But just as the pair rounded a corner, a sharp stab of pain to Sophie's abdomen halted her in her place, and she had to lean into the surrounding lockers for support.

"MOM! Are you alright!" Amy swiveled to her mother with peach skin pale; her gold flecked orbs wide- very abnormal for her.

Sophie inhaled a deep, steadying breath through her nose, as if it would somehow help the thing currently pushing at her middle, "I'm fine. Just give me a…"

Suddenly, the breath she was taking to calm the little one's was replaced by a new odor- one one could only describe as raw eggs mixed with alicorn excrement; topped by the winged horses breath. It coiled, spun, filled up the entirety of the room with green smog, and Sophie hacked at the searing sensation of the smell going down her nostrils.

_W-wha? _

She barely had time to finish the thought before a shrill scream followed immediately with coughing tolled throughout the room where the foxfire students had been enjoying the end of midterms just minutes ago. Sophie swore she could see a hint of neon green peaking through the fog.

"WHAT IS GOING ON!" Amy screamed, though her parent couldn't see her through the thickness of the green smog wrapping around them in a vice's hold. It was like a liquid: spongy and repulsive.

"Another Great Gullon Incident, that's what!" Sophie bristled. She knew that voice….

And,emerging from the fog, was her boyfriend, Keefe Sencen, in all his devil-may care attitude and mused blonde hair glory. And, the hammering of her heart against the stacked tier of sprigs known as her ribs, disappeared along with his appearance- replaced by a seething that crept under her skin and trapped her heart in it's iron grip. She was tempted to inflict on the man- she was so mad!

"KEEFE SENCEN! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU KNOW I DON'T MIND YOU'RE JOKES AND PRANKS, BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE TOO YOU, BUT YOU HAVE GONE TOO FAR! INTERRUPTING OUR DAUGHTERS MID-TERM CELEBRATION WITH GULONS IS JUST UNCALLED FOR!"

But Keefe didn't answer. He didn't look her in the eyes.

"Keefe! Look at me!" she exclaimed, and he did, and Sophie had to keep herself from gasping at his expression. His eyes had always pertained a certain depth and quality to them, but, now, the ice blue a never-ending sky to his girlfriend's eyes, why was it now that she was unable to look away? Why was it now that her breath was stolen from her lungs?- her heart a soft rhythm in her ears.

A caged mockingbird.

Keefe then set himself to the checkered floor, got one knee, and took her hand in his. Her small, dainty palm seemed to fit perfectly in his large, calloused one. Yet, despite it's roughness, there was a certain gentleness in how he caressed her ring finger with his thumb- how he held her hand firmly, yet softly, a sentiment to how he was her rock in the toughest of times. Always there, even when the odds were against them.

What was happening? Why did it seem as though the whole world was holding its breath- awaiting his next move?

"Sophie Foster- a surprise tingle of pleasure ran down her spine with how he anciated every syllable of her name- you are more than I can ever hope for and more. You were there for me when no one else was- my crutch when the goings get tough. You helped me when my father was being a typical douche, when my mother was apart of the Neverseen, when I was dealing with the crushing guilt of my legacy- you were there. You are the most amazing girl I ever met, and I have no idea what I did to deserve you when you had the perfect Fitzster and I'm, well, me- Sophie suddenly felt as though the organ pumping blood through her body was being crushed by those words. But, I can promise you this: that will do everything in my power to make you happy. So, if you'll have me….. Foster…."

Sophie's heart felt as if it would explode from the sheer happiness of his next words: "Will you marry me?"

* * *

Again, trash. Imma go to sleep now*flops on bed*


	2. A Trickster and her Mysterious MrF

** All rights go to Shannon.  
**

I'm baacccccckk! At like, 12:00 at night. Lol ;D. But, anyway, here is the chapter for day two of Seven Days of Foster-Keefe: A Trickster and her Mysterious Mr.F(genderbend SoKeefe) Sorry if the characters are too OOC, but with the switched genders I kinda intended it. Inspired by BuddingWriter101- thank you again for your help in my writing! Enjoy ;D. Sorry it's shorter than the last.

Eris: Keefe.

Sam: Sophie.

**Warning: Light cursing in this chapter. Why did I write this?**

* * *

Bored.

That was the first thing Eris thought as she lay sprawled on the bench, her arm behind her head for support of her awesome, tangled mess of blonde hair, that, paired with her usual devilish grin, made her come off as a trickster at first glance, her legs hanging lazily off the benches seat. She didn't even care that the pleated skirt of her foxfire uniform had begun to hike up to show off the inner thigh of her stockinged legs- why not give passerby's a view as they stumbled through the seemingly endless halls of the most prestigious school in the Lost Cities, despite being amusingly named after a fungus? The blonde elf could think of one aggravating mentor who would be grateful for such a view.

Sooooo boooorrrrreeeed, her mind groaned out again. Isn't there anything to do here?

Her thoughts couldn't help but drift to the new student who'd only just recently graced these halls three days ago, Sam Foster, or Mysterious Mr.F as she liked to call him: and the name fit, considering the guy had just curiously shown up in Lost Cities out of nowhere after twelve years. Naturally, Eris couldn't help but be curious of the little short-stack. After all, behind Marella- and really, no could beat the tiny angry pixie who always had ears open and feet pounding against the floor like a gazelle for any dirt of any kind- the trickster was the biggest gossip in the whole school, and this dude was the largest news to come to it since the Great Gulon Incident- something she was TOTALLY not involved with in any of way, of course.

Eris's train of thought was fractured into slivers as the nervous shuffling of feet of someone who OBVIOUSLY had no idea where the were going, hammered at her ear drums.

"Hey! Chibi! Could you quiet it down! I'M TRYING TO SKIP CLASS HERE!" she shouted to the small blonde, whom she vaguely recognized to be a level two, as he peered almost nervously at the two identical hallways, attempting to uncover which way was the right one to his destination.

But just as soon as the words left her cupid's-bow lips, they were stolen when his forest of sun-kissed hair spun as he swiveled, and Eris met orbs with the most heavenly pair of brown eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. They reminded her of rich pools of earth- a rainbow of shading, dark at their rim, golden at the pupils, with every type of brown in between, they were such a beautiful color. And the golden flecks swimming in the vortex she was slowly being dragged into, highlighted by a halo of golden curls, twinkled in the shifting light of the halls like stars.

She had never seen iris's so soft before- so gentle. So unlike her father's cold; analytical ice blue- same as her own.

Eris was drowning, but couldn't find it in herself to care. All she wanted was to stay like this forever- blue and brown locked in an unrelenting staring contest, the slight freckles along his nose that she wanted to run a finger over and count brightened by a flush of red, his eyebrows puckered cutely in ang….wait.

"Who the hell are you calling chibi!?" he exclaimed, his loathing for the nickname edged clearly into the sharp tone he'd used with her, and, just like that, the illusion was shattered. The little brat. Didn't he know how to treat a lady?

"I don't know. Do you see any other short, annoying blondes in here," Eris replied, gesturing to the desert of a hall they found themselves in. "Or wait!- she pretended to realize, pounding her fist against her open palm as if in great discovery- do you prefer dwarf instead?"

The corkscrew of the boys teeth grinded in a sickening metallic sound that had the young Tricksters hair on the back of her neck ramrod straight. "Neither."

"Then how about teeny-weeny?" For some reason other than his rudeness with pretty girls, Eris wanted to rile him up. Maybe it was because she rather liked the shade of red of his face against his sunny hair? She could almost feel his rage radiating from twelve feet away.

W-wait a damn minute….

"No."

"Molecule?"

"No."

"Lilliputian?"

"No!"

"Pint-sized blonde?" she asked with a raise of a brow. " I'm running out of idea's here."

"N-n! You know what! I'm leaving!" And with that, he turned on his heel and stomped down the left hallway, Eris trailing closely behind, laughing. The prickly static of emotion wafting from him like a second skin felt like a wall of thorns between the two.

"Stop following me!" he cried, attempting walk robotically faster to lose her. Unfortunately for shorty over there, Eris had longer legs. Damn sexy legs- if she said so herself.

"Well, I would love to, but a certain pipsqueak- she almost chuckled at the feral growl that rumbled deep in his throat at the pet name. He was just the cutest- is so obviously lost it's sad, and, being the AMAZING person I am, I have decided to guide him."

The boy in front of the trickster elf paused, the static fluctuating- Eris had almost felt her traitorous lips grin at that- before he sighed and turned back to her.

"How did you know I was lost?" he asked, voice a whisper among the silence.

Eris shrugged. "Well, it's either that or you're skipping, and you're obviously not skipping."

The juvenile female had almost stumbled back when a foreign feeling, when those lips of his had formed into to a perfect pout, when she wondered what they would TASTE like molding against her own, to kiss the brown eyed elf. But Eris had rattled those thoughts into the back of her head with a quick shake of tousled curls.

"Why couldn't I be skipping?" he asked childishly, and Eris had almost rolled her eyes at the sheer absurdity of the sentence. There was no way Mr. perfectly pressed, immaculate hair could be skipping- it just wasn't possible.

"Are you?" she challenged, a smirk edged onto her stunning features. Much to Eris's disappointed- why was that, she wondered?- that fold of his lips fell.

"No," he admitted.

Then, for the first time since she had met the little pain in the ass, he SMILED. A real, genuine smile. At HER. Eris wished she had an imparter to capture exactly how his lovely brown eyes seemed to crinkle as his perfect teeth were put on display, how that broad grin seemed to mirror sunshine itself in its purest of forms. If he wasn't such a prick, he would have reminded the trickster of an angel- radiant and stupefying… second only to her, really.

"I'm Sam. Sam Foster," he said, extending his palm. Sam! Eris thought, her heart skipping a beat.

"I'm Eris," she introduced, taking in the plushness of his skin; the way it yielded to the slightest of touch. The girl felt every nerve in her body be set ablaze as she did and Eris swore she saw stars.

Shit, this guy's feelings were intense.

Then, she ran a hand through her hair and pushed her vocal cords to attain a higher pitch, similar to his. "Eris Sencen"

This time, she couldn't help the grin that spread from ear to ear as Sam tried to to glare at her. It was more on par though with an adorable little kitten attempting to be ferocious.

"You don't have to be so mean about it," he huffed.

Eris chuckled. "Sorry sorry, Little Grasshopper. But you're the infamous Mysterious Mr. F, huh?"

The air around Sam plummeted. "What'd you mean?"

"I mean, that you're biggest thing to come to Foxfire since the Great Gulon Incident- which, by the way, I had nothing to do with."

The brown-eyed frowned before looking back up at the girl. "Is that a bad thing?"

Eris tossed her long, blonde hair back over her shoulder. "Not at all, mini man. It just means that your popular. In fact…" a mischievous grin that some would describe as downright heinous cracked through the entirety Eris's face. " I might even think of dating you myself- that is, if you grew a few inches."

Elation. That is what inflated in the trickster's heart as Sam's face caught fire, and he turned away, stuttering. God he was cute. Eris thought she might stick around with him for a while.

"By the way, hate to ask so late, but where exactly are you going on this fine day? I think I might need to know if I am too lead you there. "


	3. Of Leather and Glasses

** All rights go to Shannon.  
**

OMG! I'm so sorry! I meant to post chapter 3 for Wednesday, SoKeefe vs The Far Princess, but I still had a ways to go and it was already 12:00 and I was exhausted! Again, so sorry. Please accept chapter four as an apology- yes I know, I should have had chapter three and four done, but I'm lazy! You get what you get and you don't get upset. It will probally come out tomorrow along with chapter five or on Monday. Lol. This chapter is basically me trying to be poetic and failing miserbly.

But on a serious note, this chapter is... intense. It's basically the start of the angst I mentioned before. I recommend 13+ reading this one. Keefe may also be a little out of character, but hear me out: I feel as though, being an elf, they subconsciously try not to feel guilt so as to not shatter. But for humans, they don't have to worry about that, so suicidal tendencies, depression, and self harm come about easier. This is a human au, by the way.

**Warning: Light cursing, Depression, self harm, thoughts of suicide, and intense tongue kissing. DON'T ASK ABOUT THE KISSING- I tried okay! Also, smoking. Don't smoke kids!**

Dedicated to all those with depression and thoughts of suicide and self harm. Stay strong, and keep on fighting. Also dedicated to BW. We both are suckers for the bad boy x good girl trope*winks at her from across the screen.*

Also, it's my B-Day! Whoot Whoot!

* * *

Curls of smoke, gently being puffed in pumes from the depths of his throat. The echoes of her laughter, his favorite sound, was now a solemn memory eternally seared into the crevices of his mind. The twinkle of sheets of earth- gold, rich chocolate, hints of silver, bordered by black- all rolled up nicely into a pair of glassy orbs, that seemed to become all the more brighter when her soft, ample lips pulled back into a smile.

_How can someone so beautiful, so bright, even bear to stand besides shattering bits of glass?_

He wondered how she would react if she found out what he was planning to do, and the thought made him want to light another cigar and lose himself in the smoke. No doubt she wouldn't let him take the final leap of faith, to finally lay to rest his miserable existence; instead, she would take him him by the hand and plead with him to stay, WITH her. He felt himself toying with those thoughts of remaining in this plane of existence, here, by her side, and ignoring the call to the great beyond. Or maybe it wasn't a call at all, but a sound his mind made up to justify his decision. Either way, it didn't matter.

_S_he had Fitz: wonderboy, with a flawless family and a perfect life- everything he had ever dreamed of and more. But, most of all, he had her. And what did that leave him with? Nothing but broken dreams and the crushing weight of reality.

_Was I ever good enough?_ Such thoughts he hadn't even entertained. She deserved the world; he didn't' want her wasting time by picking up his silvered pieces. A-and, that's why….

**"That's right, you're too broken- too far gone. What would even be the point of living when we could end it right here, right now?" **

**"You already started- how about we take the final leap of faith, hmm?"**

The voice in his head- those heinous, dark thoughts- were what drove him onward. Once they got their hold on you, you were trapped- cursed for all eternity. Jagged, deep incisions, like plummeting trenches, but instead of smooth granite, were lined with layer by layer of texerious tissue and fluttering tensions, littered his arms like the cigars he was flying through at an alarming rate. The only thing that covered them was the coarse, jet black fabric of his leather jacket.

_Sophie… my Sophie…._

.

..

….

.

…

_Oh how I wish you were mine._

.

..

..

….

…

_But that just isn't possible is it? Not when Fitz is the one that holds your heart._

Icy blue orbs shivered in his socket, the gaze directed at the subtle patterns swirling in the smoke of his crack. He must have been high: he could have sworn he saw the alluring and angelic form of the one he longed for the most dancing in the trembling flame of the cigar trapped between the cutting edge of his back teeth and incisors.

Beautiful, but dangerous.

Elegant, yet clumsy.

A contradiction- just like her.

_Do you remember the day we first met? I still do._

"Hey you! Don't you know there's no smoking in school? What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Oh? And what are you gonna do about it? Report me? Oh, I'm so scared."

" Actually, that's exactly what I plan to do. Sophie Foster: Freshman hall monitor. Come with me- I'm sure you're frequenter to Principal Alina's office."

"Oh, littlespitfire aren't we? And you're right. I go to the principal's office so often they've reserved a seat for me. I'm…. by the way."

That was around the time he thought that he fell for her, yielded to her white flame and worshipped her entire being. Everyone had some kind of distortion- the sinful voice that often plagued every thought, and was there in every slit of flesh, seeping into his entire being like poisonous sludge, was proof enough of that. But her…. She was different. She was pure- a light beckoning him in the darkness, and he just wanted to envelope himself in her warmth until he didn't know where she began and he ended.

"I'll always trust you..."

_F-Fuck._

.

..

He clutched at his hair, running a hand through the mused, golden locks.

...

…

.

Black cut through his vision in extorted fury. And seeped within recollection.

.

..

…

..

..

The pain of each memory- both happy and sad, his time spent with her that he would never forget- was a knife to the heart.

.

..

…

..

..

He was tired, **so tired of it all.** Tired of his father's biting words and slicing insults. Tired of his mother, who he found out just recently was working with the infamous United States terrorist group, The Neverseen. Tired of… well, he was just tired.

**"Yes." **

"Keefe," a familiar soprano, melodic voice said, and there she was, the one and only Sophie Foster, plucking the cigarette from his mouth and holding it up to his face like it was evidence of a crime. He had to hold himself back from entangling his fingers in her silky blonde strands, because best friend's don't do that to their best friends girlfriends. Best friends don't have a plaintive longing plunging in their middle, leaving them empty and desolate, to kiss those lovely lips of hers and be swallowed by heat, or want to stare into the galaxy of colors spirling in her orbs for hours on end. "What'd I tell you about smoking in the halls? You're terrible- you know that? If you're not careful, you're gonna get caught by another hall monitor and they sure as heck aren't gonna let you off as easy."

**"Best friends don't do a lot of things that you do. So why not enjoy it?" **

He didn't answer. He didn't speak. He couldn't look her in eyes.

"Keefe?" Sophie asked when Keefe didn't answer, before she found herself pinned between the wall and Keefe's muscled chest by a slam of his hand.

Her wonderful pine scent, the words laced with malice of the voice in his head that poisoned his consciousness, it was all driving him insane. And even if it was just for a moment, even if this was the last time he ever got to hold her ever again in his arms, he wanted her. If just for a moment.

Just a taste._ I just need a taste of you Foster…_.

.

..

…

….

..

…

_Please._

.

..

…

….

_Please don't hate me._

"Keefe. What are you…" But before Keefe could even dwell on the consequences, her lips were claimed by his own, and he knew then and there that he was lost. The white flame was smoldering, a slow burst of heat crawling up and inside his skin to the point he thought he would combust, her lips alive and pulsing against his own in a vibrant dance. She tasted of the sun beating gently on your skin on a summer's day, of daisys, lilies, and roses rustling in an evening wind, of shining stars twinkling in a clear night sky. He couldn't begin to describe accurately the feel and texture and flavor of her lips on his own; all he knew was that it was distinctly her: good in every sense of word, and it quelled the black flame that always seemed to blaze in his broken heart, but also combined with it in a tornado of warring color in a way Keefe hadn't thought possible for the ugly thing, enriching the flavor of what he kissing at that very moment.

Fucking stars, she was amazing! Her cloying ambrosia was like heaven on the tongue, almost too sweet to take in. His corneas saw edges of black from the intensity of her heat. He couldn't get enough of her.

Keefe thought nothing could be better than when the two opposites collided in a lip lock, but that was until….. He felt her lips move. Eating at his own, intending to devour him as he so desired with her, as her hands drifted upwards and her fingers ever so gently scratched at his skull as they entangled in his tousled strands of curls. It was almost enough to make him think she actually wanted him and wasn't just being consumed by flames of desire.

_Foster. _

Sophie then gently poked at his mouth with her tongue, causing his spine to tremble as she ran it over his teeth, asking for entrance. Keefe granted it. Sophie's dainty pink tongue and his own rolled over and under one another like tumbling weeds, the taste of her strawberry saliva only intensifying his burning desire for more.

More.

More.

**More. **

He was always so terribly selfish.

It was only when his hand began to drift higher from it's place on her lower back, and her's lower, that he found the will to break away. "We can't, Soph," he whispered as the thin trails of saliva connecting the two broke their backs. "You're dating Fitz."

"Keefe," her voice commanded attention, and when he looked up, he was trapped in her brown-eyed gaze. " I broke up with Fitz five months ago."

Keefe's heart skipped a beat. Millions upon millions of questions raced through his mind, but none to clear as the one that shown like a beacon in the night:

_W-why?_

.

…

..

…

.

..

_W-Why? _

.

…

..

...

No one cared. No one had ever cared about him- the voiced had reminded him of that fact every day of his horrible existence. S-so why?

Why had Sophie and Fitz, the couple he had always leered his green-eyed gaze on, wishing it was him holding her hand, wishing that it was him that was bending down to kiss her forehead before the start of a session while her beautiful giggle was a pretty song to his ears. W-why had they broken up?

Why would anyone settle on fractured glass when they could have a full pane?

.

…

..

…

..

**I wonder why….. Keefe? **

.

..

..

…

Sophie's lips spread wonderfully into her stunning, pure smile that flushed her cheeks the red hue he adored. "Because I realized I didn't love him as much as I love you."

And for the first time,the voice- **HIS** thoughts- said the nicest thing they had ever said: **b**_e_**c**_a_**u**_s_**e** _s_**h**_e_** l**_o_**v**_e_**s** _y_**o**_u_. And all the emotion, all the pain, flooded out of him in the form of falling salty tears as he cried into the jerkin of her Foxfire uniform. And if he were paying attention, he would have noticed how her hand trailed over his arms, under his shirt, touching his scars- his self inflicted wounds.

She knew of his suffering- of his sorrow, even we he hadn't intended to burden her so. She knew him all too well.

"I need you Keefe," she whispered quietly so that only he could hear. " So please…"

"Don't give up on yourself."


End file.
